


To Binge

by Thorton (3370318)



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Heavy Petting, M/M, Making Out, Neck Kissing, kinda gay but not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-19 11:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18134945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3370318/pseuds/Thorton
Summary: L met Matsuda’s gaze and held it for a moment, before he continued, “Besides, there are better things you could be doing with that mouth of yours.” He let out a soft exhale. “About fifty,” L said, then released Matsuda's chin and turned his attention back to the computer screen.“O-oh… oh yeah? Like what?”





	To Binge

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not *super* satisfied with this, but eh. trying to post more of my writing, and i also want to contribute more to this severely underappreciated pairing! please spread the good word of matsuL. i'd like to write more later, but for now i hope this suffices.
> 
> oh yeah, and this isn't really canon compliant but also not too off the rails either. who knows

L blinked long and slow up at one of his monitors, then let his eyes close. The tinny thrums and whirs of the cooling fans in the tower beneath his desk were almost enough to drown out the hums and sighs from the man behind him. Matsuda reclined on the couch across the room, leafed through another file, then tossed it on the coffee table with an audible _thwap_. They were alone in the nerve center of the investigation headquarters, which sat silent save for the little noises that wore on L more and more as the night went on.

Another sigh, followed by a nasal hum under Matsuda’s breath. L raked both hands down his face.

“Matsuda-san.”

In a moment, Matsuda made a beeline to where L sat and beamed down at him. “Did you need something?”

L placed a finger on his lip and shot a withering stare up at his subordinate. “Yes. I’d like for you to be quiet. Also, I’m running low on coffee.” He extended his other arm to tap the handle of his mug.

“Oh,” Matsuda said, voice hollowed out. He collected L’s mug regardless, but turned and left with a frown on his face.

Minutes passed, then Matsuda handed off a fresh cup of coffee to L and situated himself on the couch again without a word. L, satisfied with this development, cracked his fingers and began to type away in one of the files he pulled up. It took a few dozen clacks of the mechanical keyboard before Matsuda cut in: “I thought we were being quiet?”

L stopped. Matsuda froze in turn, then rubbed a hand over his mouth.

“Heh.”

L took a sip of his coffee and let his faint smirk rest against the rim of his mug. He noted that it tasted sweet, tinged with just the right amount of milk and sugar. “Well, forgive me,” he said, and turned to face Matsuda. “I might have been a bit cold just now.”

“Might have?!”

Matsuda let out the breath he held in, then draped an arm over his knee and pouted. L tilted his head to get a better look out of his peripheral as Matsuda got up and approached him a second time.

“You’ve been so grumpy all night! Every time I try to show you something about the case, you brush me off. Then when I try to lighten the mood, you shoot that down, too,” he started, and leaned in on his elbows. “You don’t even care about all of the stuff Misa-Misa and I have been up to, which… well, I’ve been doing an awesome job as her manager, and this lead I picked up with a guy at a beauty magazine paid off just yesterday, because they contacted her for a photoshoot--”

L reached out and grabbed Matsuda’s face in one hand, fast enough that Matsuda couldn’t recoil. He still yelped.

“Matsuda-san. I’ve been trying to focus on this casework. Which is, to be frank, almost endless. I’m sorry for being curt before, but I work best when it is quiet…” L met Matsuda’s gaze and held it for a moment, before he continued, “Besides, there are better things you could be doing with that mouth of yours.” He let out a soft exhale. “About fifty,” L said, then released Matsuda's chin and turned his attention back to the computer screen.

“O-oh… oh yeah? Like what?” Matsuda asked, though he took a step back and braced himself on the desk to regain his composure.

“Number forty-seven: licking envelopes," L rattled off humorlessly, and placed his forefinger in his mouth. Matsuda groaned. "I could whip up a letter-writing campaign to keep you busy, Matsuda-san.” L licked his teeth and shot a glance in Matsuda’s direction.

If battles of wit with Light were like precarious, lightning-fast games of tennis, taking on Matsuda felt a bit more like playing pong; two-dimensional, your standard fare, sometimes challenging but somewhat mindless. Matsuda did not present much of a thrill, but offered something L began to value more and more as the case ran him ragged: comfort, familiarity, some sense of normalcy that he could indulge in during the few moments he allowed himself a break. In the back of his mind, he wondered if these indulgences were fair. To himself, to Matsuda, to the ever-growing list of victims that died at the hands of Kira.

Matsuda watched him back, eyes wide with trepidation, and L studied the lines in his expression.

“Come on,” Matsuda whined, finally, and placed a hand on the back of his neck to ward off the heat that rose in his skin. L shook himself of his thoughts and continued to type.

“It’s only a joke,” he clarified, then fell silent. Of course Matsuda wouldn’t be so easily deterred now.

“No… what’s the first one?” the other man prompted, then seemed to bite down on his lip as if to retract his statement. “Er, you know… what would you prefer I do? Tell me, Ryuzaki.” 

Another promising trait Matsuda brought to the table: once he set his mind to something, he wouldn’t give up without satisfying his curiosity, even at the risk of fumbling face-first into a mortifying encounter. L could relate to the sentiment more than he would let on, with the pointed exception being that he lacked any shame. 

They made eye contact, and felt the air in the room change. “I don’t know, Matsuda-san. What would you like it to be?” L asked, and pursed his lips to be provocative. Matsuda moved in closer, and L tilted his head back in turn. “This isn't very professional,” L said, spoken more as an observation than admonishment. He kept his eyes trained on the ceiling.

“And you don’t exactly embody professionalism, so,” Matsuda replied, though with a hesitant tone, as if he wanted to convince himself more than the man beneath him, “I don't think you care.”

“That may be so,” L responded, in that evasive way of his that left Matsuda red in the face. Regardless, he slunk further back into his chair and made no attempt to push Matsuda away. Soon enough, Matsuda mustered up the courage to place a hand on his knee, but didn’t dare go further until L gently slid Matsuda’s hand higher up his thigh. The sensation of the palm warm against his skin, even through his jeans, sent a chill up his spine. L felt his arms tremble. _Oh_ , he thought.

“Go ahead,” L permitted, but his expression remained unreadable. “If you want to.”

A pause. L closed his eyes and registered a shaky exhale from his partner. “I do,” Matsuda admitted, flushed with embarrassment. There was silence between them again, and the pulse of heat from where Matsuda placed his hands on L’s thighs. The detective almost lurched forward to take matters into his own hands when Matsuda rested his nose on the crook of L’s neck. His breath ghosted up L’s throat before he pressed a tentative kiss against his jaw.  

L leaned into it, then placed both hands on Matsuda’s shoulders to steady himself. Another kiss, shy but so hot against his skin, pressed to the corner of his mouth. L moved to wrap an arm around Matsuda’s neck and let his eyes flutter open.

“No need to be nervous,” L said, and turned his head to catch a kiss on his lips.

He cupped Matsuda’s cheek in his free hand. Matsuda mirrored the gesture and held L’s jaw delicately in his rough palm, and moved to stroke his cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I’m not… nervous,” Matsuda argued, but took the encouragement and pressed another kiss to the side of his pale throat. He stiffened when L wrapped his legs around his waist. The lank detective had the nerve to grin at him.

L dropped his hand to smooth down Matsuda’s tie, then he pulled at it as he disentangled himself and climbed out of his chair. “Let’s get more comfortable,” he proposed, and Matsuda nodded with enough enthusiasm to make L huff out a noise close to a laugh. “Here.”

They crossed the floor until L maneuvered Matsuda to lie down on the couch, and he felt hands on his hips guide him as he settled into a straddle. He curled his hand under the older man’s chin, and brought him in for another kiss. Matsuda moved to tangle a hand in L’s hair and returned his open-mouthed kisses, which turned long and languid soon enough. L broke away to catch his breath and brushed a few strands of hair out of Matsuda’s eyes, then held them there against his warm forehead.

“You have my attention now,” L said, and looked down at him with half-lidded eyes. He leaned down again and kissed at Matsuda’s neck as he spoke. “Tell me all about your theories, or your work with Amane-san, or whatever else.”

Matsuda managed a strained laugh, breathy and worn, and placed a hand over his mouth. “You play dirty, Ryuzaki. I kind of like it?”

“I’m not playing around,” L said, despite the way he shifted his hips and caused Matsuda to roll up into him on instinct. They both made involuntary noises in response. Through his lightheadedness, he ran his fingers down Matsuda’s face and pulled the hand away. “I want to hear it, so I might thank you properly.”

“See! You’re totally playing dirty. You know I’m just… thinking about you,” Matsuda whined, and slipped his freed hands under L’s shirt to rest on the curve of his back. The detective arched into the palms that stroked warm paths down his skin and let out a content hum.

“As you always do,” L said, and took on another self-satisfied shadow of a smile when Matsuda sputtered at the accusation. “Tell me about that, then.”

L kissed him and began to loosen his tie by way of encouragement.

“You’re so pretty, Ryuzaki…”

“I am aware.”

“Um… I’m thinking about… well… are you tingly?”

“Tingly,” L repeated, with an edge of incredulity to his voice that put Matsuda on the defensive.

“Well, yeah! You know, uh… d-does it… do you get that feeling in your stomach? When we do this? And… do your arms and legs get all… uh, they tingle, every touch feels like I’m on fire…”

“That’s probably… adrenaline, or oxytocin,” L replied, and discarded Matsuda’s tie. He felt a sigh beneath him. “What? Both hormones can be released during intimacy.”

“O- _kaaay_ , but I was thinking about how… it just… feels nice. Being with you. Do you… um, feel the same way?”

L sat back on his legs for a moment, and mulled over the clumsy question. Clumsy and straight to the point, which suited the man laid out before him.

“Of course,” L answered, which wasn’t a lie. He ran his hands down Matsuda’s chest, which earned him a more pleased exhale. “You treat me too well, Matsuda-san.”

Matsuda’s simplicity had to be his charm. He wore his heart on his sleeve, for better or worse…  and as things stood, L enjoyed the presence of an ally he didn’t have to second-guess. L let himself be guided into another kiss, and deepened it without a further thought. For a moment, he felt grounded during an investigation where he knew he became less sure-footed by the day.

“I could treat you way better,” Matsuda ventured when they parted, but creased his brow at his own word choice. “Um, I mean… we could do more. If you want to.”

L wondered once more how far he could take this indulgence before his better judgment caught up to him, but drank in the reverent way Matsuda touched him, like he knew he held something precious beneath the soft brush of his fingertips.

“I do,” L said, in an almost breathless admission, but spared another glance in the direction of his computer. “However… I’m not sure if I have the time.”

“Aw, really? All of that work will still be there in the morning, Ryuzaki,” Matsuda said, and brought a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind L’s ear. “You can take a little break, right? I’ll help you make it up later. Anyway, you deserve it.”

L blinked, and clicked his tongue as if poised to challenge the offer. When his stoic eyes met the warmth of Matsuda’s resolute ones, he felt himself awash with an odd sense of calm. When was the last time he’d allowed himself to relax like this? After a stretch of coy silence thrown in for good measure, he relented.

“Fine, if you’re taking responsibility,” L said. “Yes, I’d like to. Let’s take a break together.”

Matsuda tipped his head back and laughed. “Nice! Does that count as a point to you, or to me?”

The remark earned him a look of owlish bewilderment. Since when did _Matsuda_ keep score?  _Oh, well._ With some consideration, L inquired, “Does it matter?”

“Not really,” Matsuda answered, and relished in the way L enveloped him in another embrace.


End file.
